


Look Around

by wytewaeve



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 18:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15734964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wytewaeve/pseuds/wytewaeve
Summary: The town was still asleep, there was no light in the streets or homes.They had done this. They had achieved this.Just a short one-shot.





	Look Around

It was a quiet morning. Like most of the time, really. Life had become a lot less turbulent since the war was over, since they parted their ways to finally enjoy their well-earned peace.

He had still been paranoid at first and secretly kept a spare rifle hidden behind the tools in his workshop. He didn't trust the quiet, almost expecting another dragon to emerge from behind the mountains to murder them all in their sleep. It took months for him to get rid of this feeling. Yet he rid himself of his weapon and finally found peace and joy with his new life in his old home.

She had known all along. She had seen the rifle, had seen the cautious look on his face when he thought she wasn't looking. She hadn't mentioned it then, but years later. He had seemed embarrassed, yet he had also smiled. It was foolish of him to think that she of all people wouldn't see the hidden fears of the man she so dearly loved. The woman who intended who take all those fears away from him and replace them with the joy he had lacked for years.

The sun was just rising. The air was still cold around his frame as he stood there. He wasn't sure what had woken him up. Regardless of his initial confusion, he was grateful for a moment like this. His gaze wandered over the small hills and tall mountains that surrounded his home. The town was still asleep and there was no light in the streets and homes. They had done this, achieved this. They had freed the people of Whitestone, more than once, and brought them the peace they deserved.

A smile spread across his pale face and he closed his tired eyes for a moment. He twitched slightly as a warm hand touched his bare shoulder. "You're thinking too much sometimes. Are you aware of that, darling? Does your mind ever come to rest?" she asked silently, her voice but a mere sleepy whisper. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she rested her head against his shoulder.

"It just seems like a dream to me still. Very different from what I'm used to." He pulled her arms off himself and turned to look at her. He couldn't help but smile brighter at the state of her- She looked like she had fought with a pack of wolves with her bare hands and won, naturally. Just that she wasn't wounded and almost entirely naked. Her hair looked wild and untameable, he knew she would be annoyed by it later when she had to look more presentable again.

"Don't take this the wrong way, though. I am very happy about how most things have turned out. This life is more than I dared to dream of." His voice was soft as he spoke to her. He took her hands and kissed her forehead. She meant to say something, he could tell. He knew precisely what she wanted to say. _'You think too much, Percy. Turn off that incredible mind of yours for once.'_

Before she could even open her mouth to speak, their heads turned towards the thick wooden door that lead out of their bedroom on the opposite side of the room, opposite to the large balcony that towered over Whitestone as they heard the clanking of metal. It was loud, their gnomish friend would have been proud. Then, a moment of absolute silence, one could have heard a gnome take a blue dump in Vasselheim, followed by hushed whispers and quiet giggles.

"Better get dressed then." Percival mumbled as he let go of his wife and headed towards the door. She turned to the wardrobe and switched the shirt she wore, _his shirt_ that is, against her own everyday clothing.

The smile on her face was brighter than the divine light of Pelor when she heard her husband in the corridor.

"Percival Friedrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo IV! Why do you have to make such a mess at this ungodly hour?"

That had not been the first time, and surely not the last, that the five-year-old had thrown the decorative armour to the ground when he attempted to sneak around. To see if he could find his uncle, waiting at the grand window at the end of the hallway, that is.

 

**Author's Note:**

> First time I wrote anything since 5 years.  
> Feel free to leave me any type of feedback. I'm still not sure if I should get back into writing.
> 
> Found any grammatical or spelling mistakes? Please tell me so I can fix it!


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